


A Visitor From England

by katedf



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4003417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katedf/pseuds/katedf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard has a surprise visitor, and Camille learns a lot about her boss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first Death in Paradise story I ever started, more than two years ago, sometime during Season 1 (In the US, which was the year the UK got Season 2). It bothered me that Richard was so alone and I wanted there to be someone in his life who truly cares about him. The story has been lingering on my computer, and I finally got around to finishing it.

The prosecutor gathered up the papers into a folder and rose.

“The case looks solid. Thanks to you and your team, this looks like a win. I’ll let you know if I need anything more.” He shook hands with Richard, nodded to the others as he passed them, and left the building.

“Right,” said Richard. “That’s the robbery case finished. How are we doing on the Bardon murder? Has the autopsy report come in?”

“Not yet, Chief,” answered Dwayne. “You want me to call over to them?”

“No, let’s give it until the end of the day,” said Richard as he walked to the refrigerator for a bottle of cold water. 

“I still think the wife did it,” said Camille.

“Why do you always suspect other women?” asked Richard.

“The wife is always the first suspect in a husband’s murder. And she didn’t seem to be at all upset by his death.” Camille’s French accent always seemed to get stronger when she argued with her boss. Dwayne noticed it and smiled. He and Fidel exchanged amused looks. They always enjoyed the verbal tennis match between the two detectives.

Richard, as usual, became irritated by Camille’s increased Frenchness. “Perhaps she is reserved, a private sort of person. Not everyone shows their every emotion, you know.”

_Oh yes, I know that,_ thought Camille. Aloud she said, “I know, I know, she’s English. So you’re telling me that an English woman won’t cry when her husband dies?”

“No, that is NOT what I’m saying. English people grieve when a loved one dies.”

“Ah HA!” Camille cried triumphantly. “She didn’t cry because she isn’t grieving. She isn’t grieving because she didn’t love him. She hated him and she killed him!”

Richard stared at her. “Honestly, Camille, if that is your idea of a logical—”

“RICHIE!” Everyone turned to look at the woman in the doorway. She ran to Richard, and threw her arms around his neck. Much to the amazement of his team, Richard wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back.

“I’ve missed you so much, I had to come down here to see how you are. The flight was ever so long. I have a week’s holiday, isn’t that brilliant?”

Camille studied the newcomer, or what she could see of her, considering how she was buried in Richard’s embrace. Her accent gave her away as English. She had light brown hair, medium build—not skinny, not fat. She was babbling about Richard not telling her he was going to be away for so long and he just let her go on and on. Camille was surprised. Who the hell was this woman anyway? And what was her relationship with Richard? She called him Richie! And she was touching him and hugging him and fussing at him. And he didn’t seem to mind. This was more physical contact in a few minutes than she had observed in all the months Richard had been on Saint Marie. 

Well, she thought, there’s no reason he would tell us about a girlfriend back in England. But it must have been serious if the woman felt confident that she could just show up unannounced. Richard was not exactly the spontaneous type. Camille had taken to stopping by Richard’s bungalow once in a while, but she was never sure how welcome she was. THIS woman was quite sure she would be welcome. Camille’s thoughts were interrupted by Richard’s voice.

“Meg.”

Ah, so the woman was called Meg.

“Margaret!”

The woman continued giggling and talking.

“MARGARET JUSTINE!” 

Camille gasped as Richard clapped his hand over Meg’s mouth.

“I’m delighted to see you, Sweetheart, but you’re interrupting our work.”

From behind Richard’s hand came a muffled “Oh, sorreee!” He dropped his hand and she turned to face Richard’s team.

“I am so sorry! But I haven’t seen Richard in so long! I’m looking forward to learning all about Saint Marie and meeting his friends. And the lizard! I can’t believe he has a pet lizard!” 

“It isn’t a pet; it just lives in my house.”

Camille looked at Richard and raised her eyebrows as if to say, _Meeting your friends, Richard. Aren’t you going to introduce us?_

He took the hint. “Meg, this is—”

“Let me guess! Camille, well obviously, you’re the only woman on the team. And you’re Dwayne, and you’re Fidel,” she finished, nodding at each of them. “Right?”

Dwayne and Fidel nodded and grinned at Meg. Her happiness was infectious. Camille smiled to be polite, but something kept the brilliance out of her smile as she waited for Richard to finish the introduction.


	2. Chapter 2

“And this,” said Richard fondly, “Is Meg, my sister.” 

Dwayne and Fidel enthusiastically greeted the newcomer.

“Your sister? Chief you never told us you have a sister!”

“Welcome to Saint Marie, Meg.”

“We should celebrate!”

“Beach barbecue!”

While the two men listed potential celebrations, Meg turned to smile at Camille and held out her hand, saying, “I hope we’ll be friends.”

The knot in Camille’s stomach untied itself and her smile widened. She took Meg’s hand and said, “I’m sure we will be.” Now that she knew they were siblings, Camille could see the resemblance. Meg’s eyes were green, but not as deep green as Richard’s.

“Goodness, it really is as hot as he says!”

“I’m so sorry for our terrible hospitality,” said Camille. “Would you like some cold water?” She headed for the refrigerator.

“Actually, what I’d love is a chance to meet your mum and have a drink at her bar. Could we?” Meg turned to look at her brother.

“It’s only half-eleven, Meg.”

“Oh, right, time zones.”

“We could go for lunch, Chief,” said Dwayne. 

“The murder,” said Richard.

“We can argue about who did it over lunch,” said Camille. “Come on!”

“Are these yours?” asked Fidel, pointing to the suitcases on the porch.

“Oh, yes, I nearly forgot about them! Could we just put them inside for now?”

“Of course!” Dwayne lifted the larger of the two, leaving Fidel to take the smaller one. Showing off, thought Camille as she looked at Richard and rolled her eyes.

At the bar, they settled into a table in the shade, and Catherine took their drink orders. Meg asked for something with rum and a little umbrella.

“Too touristy?” she asked, looking at Richard. He just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Meg looked at Catherine and said, “Wait, you didn’t take Richard’s order.”

“Tea,” said Catherine. “Always tea.”

“Yes, he does say that you make the best tea on the island.”

Catherine’s eyebrows rose. Richard smiled weakly at her, then tried to catch Meg’s eye to give her a warning look. At the rate she was going, he would have no secrets. He tried to remember what he had told Meg in his emails and wondered how he could stop her disclosing everything.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? Where are you staying?” Richard asked.

“I wanted to surprise you. I thought I’d stay with you. You did say you have a house. And I’m not afraid of the lizard.”

“Oh, ah, um—”

“She can stay with me,” said Catherine as she delivered one rum pineapple punch, three beers, and a pot of tea. “I have Camille’s old room.”

“She can stay with me,” said Camille. 

“I’m sure there’s something available in a hotel nearby,” said Richard. “It isn’t that I don’t want you to stay with me, I just haven’t the space.”

Camille nodded, “He basically has a bed, a desk, and an arm chair. He may doze off in the chair, but it isn’t the place for a decent night’s rest. My house has more space. And a better bathroom. I’m not sure Richard’s electricity could survive a hairdryer.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Meg started, but Camille shook her head.

“Not an imposition, I promise. I think it will be fun to have company!” She smiled at Richard, who just kept stirring his tea as he realized that every email he had ever sent to Meg had just been forwarded to Camille.

After lunch, Richard returned to the office. Dwayne and Fidel took charge of the luggage, and Camille led the way to her house. She shooed the two men out of the house, promising to return to work shortly.

Camille took a set of sheets out of the closet and set them on the bed.

“You’ll take the bed, so here are fresh sheets. I apologize for not making the bed, but I should get back to work before Richard gets annoyed.”

“I shouldn’t take your bed.”

“Yes, you should. You’re my guest. I can sleep on the sofa, it is not a problem. Please pardon my curiosity, but you don’t sleep in a long flannel nightgown, do you?”

“Goodness, no. In this heat, only a t-shirt.”

“It’s just that Richard sleeps in pajamas, and then complains that it’s too hot to sleep.” The expression on Meg’s face made Camille realize that what she said sounded like more than it was. “Oh no, it isn’t like that at all. If we have to go to a crime scene in the morning, I’ll pick him up. Sometimes I’m early, and he is still in his pajamas. I did suggest once that he sleep naked.”

Meg’s eyebrows shot up.

Camille grinned and said, “Yes, that was pretty much his expression, too.”

Camille gave Meg a spare key, her mobile number, and a local guidebook. “Stay here and relax, go for a stroll, whatever you like. Oh! Sunblock, did you pack any?”

Meg pulled a bottle of factor 50 out of her bag. “Richard swears by this.”

“Ah, yes, that’s how he says so… fair,” replied Camille, managing to avoid saying “pasty” or “pale.”


	3. Chapter 3

Camille and Richard spent the afternoon interviewing staff at the hotel where the murder had taken place. Richard stood in front of the building, looking up at the balcony. 

“What now?” asked Camille. It was getting late, and Richard had gone into review-the-details mode. 

“He landed rather far from the building.”

“Right, that’s why we don’t think it was suicide. That and the fact that he had his glasses on. We went through all of this yesterday.” She looked pointedly at her watch, but he didn’t notice.

“But the distance. I don’t think she could push with enough force to propel him that far from the building.”

“You never want it to be the wife. That’s very chivalrous, Richard, but it usually is the wife.”

“I’m just trying to balance your tendency to blame the wife straight away. You know that the commissioner won’t like it if we arrest the wrong person. We’ve got her passport and her husband’s body. She isn’t going to leave Saint Marie tonight.”

“So could we give up for the night? Don’t you want to spend time with your sister?”

“Yes, of course. It’s very kind of you to let her stay with you, but perhaps a hotel—”

“No! I’m sure she has settled in by now. And I’m looking forward to getting to know her. A couple of Maman’s rum punches, and I’ll know all your secrets!”

Camille laughed and Richard groaned as he got into the car.

“Maman is making supper for you to take home. So we’ll pick up that, then stop for Meg, and I’ll drive you both home.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“Nonsense! You probably have nothing in the house except those wheat-biscuit cereal things and bananas. Meg has traveled a long way to see you and she deserves a decent meal.”

Camille stepped on the gas, and Richard wondered when his life had ceased to be under his own control.

-o-o-o-o-

Camille dropped off Richard, Meg, and their dinner at the beach house.

“Call me and I’ll pick you up.”

“I can walk her back,” said Richard. 

“I won’t be very late,” said Meg, “I think the time zones are beginning to catch up with me.”

As Camille drove away, Meg turned to her brother and said, “She’s delightful—smart, pretty, take-charge. I can understand what you see in her.”

“I don’t—”

“Of course you do. So what is it that she sees in you? The challenge of the Richard Poole firewall?”

“She doesn’t see anything in me.”

“I think she does.”

“Meg, you only met her today.”

“Women can read other women, Richard.”

“That’s what Camille keeps telling me, especially when she wants to arrest a wife for the murder of her husband.”

“Oh, yes, the murder. Have you solved it yet? Was it the wife?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Right, then let’s talk about Camille.”

“I don’t want to talk about her, either.”

Meg took a bite of the meal in front of her and sighed. “Ohhhh, this is delicious! You should marry Camille just for the food. Imagine having a mother-in-law who can cook like this!”

“Is it seafood? Seafood usually has its eyes.”

“No eyes, Richard. It’s cut into pieces. It won’t look back at you. It’s good. There’s more to cuisine than roast beef, you know.” 

Richard picked at his food and discovered that Meg was right. It was delicious. 

Meg smiled when she saw that Richard was enjoying the meal. “See? I told you it’s good. I suppose it’s because Catherine is French. Which makes Camille half French?”

“There is NO SUCH THING as half French,” Richard grumbled. “Camille’s father may have come from the Caribbean, but Camille amps up her Frenchness just to annoy me.”

“Maybe it’s to get your attention.”

“Eat your dinner, Meg.”

Years of experience had taught Meg when a conversation was over, so she turned her attention to her food. She may have stopped asking Richard about Camille, but she wasn’t done snooping.

-o-o-o-o-

Camille was watching TV and flipping through a magazine when she heard footsteps outside. She stood and walked to the door.

“Hi! You did make it an early night.”

Meg stifled a yawn and nodded as she walked into the house.

Camille held the door open and asked, “Richard, would you like a nightcap?”

“Um, no thanks.” He looked at her tank top and gym shorts. You aren’t dressed.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake, Richard, it’s more than I was wearing when you arrested me!”

Meg was at the bedroom door, but turned when she heard this.

“Don’t ask!” said Richard. “It’s past your bedtime.”

Meg huffed and went into the bedroom.

“So, drink? Tea?” Camille asked Richard,

“No, I’ll be going.” Richard stood awkwardly in the doorway. Then he reached out and placed his hand on Camille’s where it rested on the doorknob. “Thanks for taking in my sister and arranging dinner.”

Camille turned her hand over and squeezed Richard’s hand. “You’re welcome. Be careful walking home.”

“I’ve got my torch,” he said, flicking on the light. “Goodnight.”

“Sleep well,” she replied softly, and watched him walk down the street.


	4. Chapter 4

Camille was making coffee when Meg shuffled into the kitchen the next morning.

“Oh my, I can’t believe I slept so long.”

“Long flights and time zones do that.” Camille turned and saw Meg’s sleepshirt. It said “This IS my sexy lingerie.”

“Oh, mon Dieu, I want one like that! I can just imagine wearing it for—” She stopped herself, and then started to wonder what she would wear to seduce Richard. The funny shirt? Something black and lacy? Slinky and satin? One of his shirts? Nothing at all? Wait! WHAT was she thinking? She didn’t want that. Did she?

“Camille? Are you all right?”

“Hmm? Yes, fine. My mind wandered a bit, that’s all. I thought after coffee, we could walk through the market. Pick up some pastries, fruit. It’s always fun. Did you bring a hat? If not, you’ll probably want to get one.”

“Good idea.”

“And I need to get some things for lunch. Picnic on the beach at Richard’s. Fidel’s wife is making most of the food, and Dwayne is in charge of the beer.”

“I gather that Dwayne is always in charge of the beer.” Seeing Camille’s quizzical expression, she added, “Richard and I email back and forth.”

“I’m glad. He’s alone so much of the time. It’s good that he has that human contact, even though it’s long distance.”

Meg nodded, “The firewall. I know. It’s a long story, something for a time when we don’t have shopping to do.”

They strolled through the market. Meg found a straw hat that she liked. Then she asked Camille why she didn’t wear one.

Camille held out her arm and said, “Haven’t you noticed, I have natural sunscreen.”

Meg looked embarrassed and Camille laughed, “It’s okay, really. Ah, here’s my favorite baker. Roland! Vous avez croissants cette matin!”

“Pour vous, ma belle!” he said, putting two croissants into a bag.

“Quatre, s’il vous plait,” said Camille as she handed over some money. Turning to Meg she said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to run on in French like that. I seem to do it more lately. It drives your brother crazy. Meg, this is Roland, baker extraodinaire. Roland, this is my friend Meg.”

Roland took Meg’s hand and kissed it. Camille rolled her eyes and Meg giggled. 

They continued through the market, shopping for produce and souvenirs. Meg stopped at a stall that sold linen shirts.

“These are beautiful. I should buy one for Richard.”

“Save your money. He won’t wear it. He only wears suits and ties. It was months before he’d take his jacket off at the station. He complains about the heat because he dresses as if he’s still in London.”

“Part of the firewall. But he’ll wear it for me.”

“What do you plan to do, knock him unconscious and then change his clothes before he wakes up?”

“Nothing near as drastic as that. I’ll just tell him to wear it. I have a feeling that he’s ready to loosen up, but doesn’t quite know how. Plus, I’m the baby sister. I’ve had years of practice wrapping him around my little finger. You’ll get the knack soon enough.”

“I doubt that I’ll ever see him wrapped around my little finger. His hands wrapped around my neck, maybe, but…”

“You do enjoy provoking him, don’t you?”

“Yes. I’m not proud of it, but I do enjoy it. It’s just that sometimes he’s so… so damned English!”

-o-o-o-

Camille and Meg stood in the kitchen slicing fruit and arranging it on a platter.

“How wonderful to have all this lovely fresh fruit available all year! With produce like this, I could be a vegetarian,” said Meg. “Well, apart from the seafood. And the occasional burger. Hmm, so maybe not a vegetarian, then. I’m looking forward to trying more local cooking.”

Camille looked at her and shook her head. “If you didn’t have those green eyes, I’d run DNA tests. How can siblings be so different?”

“That isn’t so uncommon. What about your family?”

“I’m an only child. My parents split when I was little, so it’s always been just Maman and me. We’re very close and I love her dearly. Except when she tries to set up blind dates for me.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about some of those. I think it makes Richard jealous.” Meg watched for a reaction.

“Jealous? Nonsense!” Camille felt Meg’s gaze and decided to change the subject. “Did you bring a bathing suit?”

“Is that all right to wear to the picnic? I mean, should I change here or at Richard’s house?”

“Definitely wear your bathing suit! It is a beach picnic, after all. I’ll change here and bring dry clothes with me in case I want to change out of the suit later.”

Camille changed into a blue bikini. Meg put on her red tankini.

“Wow!” said Meg. “I wish I could carry off a look like that. You’re not going out on the street in just that, are you?”

Camille laughed and said, “People do all the time. In fact, this is what I was wearing when Richard arrested me.”

“What did he arrest you for?”

“Not indecent exposure, don’t worry. He caught me searching a suspect’s boat and thought I was either a thief or an accomplice. I was undercover, working on a case that intersected with his, and he blew my cover.”

“So that’s how you met?”

“Not a good beginning. When the Commissioner told him he was staying and that we’d be partners, neither of us was pleased. Isn’t that how he tells the story?”

“Close. He never mentioned the arrest or the bikini. And he used more adjectives.”

“Such as?”

“Ah, let’s see. At first you were—I’m not sure I should tell you.”

“I’m a detective, I’ll get it out of you eventually, so tell me now.”

“Right, well, at first, annoying, bad-tempered, difficult, irritating, frustrating. Then it got better. Smart, resourceful, intuitive.” Meg grinned, “But still irritating.”

Pleased that she had managed to get under Richard’s skin, Camille smiled and said, “Well, let’s get going so that I can irritate him some more. But let’s not have you scandalize him by walking the street in so little clothing. I have a pareo that would look perfect with that suit.”

Camille pulled out a flowered pareo and taught Meg how to tie it. She then tied on her own and they set out for the beach bungalow.


	5. Chapter 5

Richard heard the laughter before he saw the two women round the corner of his house. Meg had her pareo tied low around her hips, so she looked like she was wearing a sundress. Camille had tied her pareo high and around her neck, hiding her torso but showing off her legs. Not wishing to be accused of ogling, Richard limited his admiration of her legs and tried not to think of what might be hidden under the cover-up.

He took the large tote bag from Camille. It was surprisingly heavy.

“What is in here?”

“The fruit and the ice cream. Put that in your refrigerator, please. And some other things we might want.”

Richard looked inside the bag. A snorkel and mask? She didn’t think he was going to use that, did she? And worse, Twister. There wasn’t beer enough on the whole island to get him to play THAT.

Meg followed Richard into the house and Camille waited outside for the others.

“I bought you a present, Richard,” said Meg as she pulled the shirt out of her bag.

“You’ll have to take it back.”

“Can’t. I bought it at the market this morning, and I don’t think they do returns. Wear it for the picnic!”

“I’ll look silly.”

“You’ll look sillier in a shirt and tie. I understand that you have to dress like the professional you are when you’re working. But you’re liming today, and you have to dress the part.”

“Liming? I’m beginning to regret telling you so much about this island.”

“I’m glad you did. I think Saint Marie is lovely, and so are your friends.” She shook the shirt in front of him. “Now put this on while I go down to the beach and dip my toes in the water.”

Meg pulled a towel out of her bag and untied the pareo.

“You’re wearing that?” 

“Yes. It’s the sort of thing one wears to the beach.”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, I do. Now put on the shirt. Don’t give me that stubborn look. If you don’t put on that shirt NOW, I’m going back to Camille’s to borrow one of her bikinis.”

Richard sighed and undid his tie. Camille, who had heard the whole exchange from her chair on the veranda, looked up when Meg walked out the door.

“Is he really changing his shirt?” she whispered.

“Indeed, he is.”

“Damn, girl. You’re good!”

“Brother management 101: threaten to do something he won’t like and he’ll do what you want.”

Dwayne arrived with a cooler filled with ice and beer. Fidel, Juliet, and the baby were right behind him. Camille introduced Meg to Juliet, and took the baby while Juliet and Fidel carried food and baby paraphernalia into the house. 

Richard walked out onto the veranda and saw Camille cooing over the baby. Meg saw the longing on his face and had to look away. He wouldn’t be able to take it if he knew that she’d seen that look. By the time Camille looked up, he had himself under control. A moment wasted, thought Meg. 

Camille was prepared for the surprise of seeing Richard in a casual shirt. But she wasn’t prepared for how good he looked in it. His whole body language was different, more relaxed. He looked a lot younger, too. But he did have a nervous expression on his face, so she stifled the urge to tease him. 

“Very nice!” she called up to him. “Come down and let me see. It looks like a perfect fit. She said she knows your size.”

“Thanks to years and years of buying wooly jumpers for Christmas prezzies,” laughed Meg.

“And deplorable ties,” added Richard. 

“Deplorable?” asked Camille.

“Hideous bright things. It’s like having a circus crawling up one’s neck.” Richard shuddered.

“Ooh, I’d like to see them! Did you bring any?”

Richard gave Camille his patented are-you-out-of-your-mind look.

“Too bad. But you look better tie-less anyhow.”

Richard smiled and fussed at the baby, offering his finger for her to grab. Meg looked at the trio in front of her and blinked back a few tears. _It’s what you want, Richie. It’s what you need, and it could all be right here._

Juliet took her daughter and settled her into the portable cot. Dwayne and Fidel had the barbecue going, and Richard brought them each a bottle of beer. 

“We’re going for a swim,” said Camille and she and Meg passed the three men. She untied her pareo and handed it to Richard. “Hold onto this for me, will you?”

Richard watched her walk away and took a long drink of his beer. Lord, but it was getting hot on the beach, even without a tie.

They spread beach towels under the palm trees and had lunch in the shade. Despite Richard’s belief that Saint Marie was hotter than hell, a gentle breeze from the water kept everyone quite comfortable. After lunch, Meg wanted to look for seashells. Camille told her to wear the pareo like a cape to keep the sun off her back and shoulders. They walked together for a while, then Camille decided to return to the others. 

She sat next to Richard and said, “I never minded being an only child. But now I wish that I’d had a sister.”

“She’s my best friend,” he said. “The two musketeers.”

“I know you don’t read French literature, Richard. But the book was The Three Musketeers, not two.”

“Ah, well, two out of three isn’t bad.” He looked sad as he said this, so Camille decided to change the subject.

“I do like the shirt. Admit it, Richard, it’s more comfortable than the dress shirt and tie.”

“Yes, all right, it is cooler. But I’m only wearing this to please my sister. Don’t expect me to change my whole wardrobe.”

“No, of course not. At least, not all at once. Hmm, what next? Perhaps we could try flip-flops? Just for the beach. One little change at a time.” She gave him a devilish grin, “We’ll work our way up to Speedos.”

Seeing the look of horror on Richard’s face made Camille laugh. He watched her, with her head thrown back and her shoulders shaking. And it hit him—she said he ogled pretty women. He wouldn’t say ogle, exactly. He looked. And now he realized why. He looked at THEM because he daren’t look at her, the woman he wanted, the woman he couldn’t have.


	6. Chapter 6

“I still can’t believe Richard never told us he has siblings,” said Camille. The beach party had been fun and both women were tired. But they were also curious about each other, so they stayed up to have another drink and chat. 

“He probably figured you’d ask a lot of questions. He doesn’t like to talk about himself.”

“But he told you about us.”

“We’ve always confided in each other. I’ve been through a couple of bad breakups and he’s been my rock every time.”

“And does it work the other way round?”

“Not for a long time,” said Meg. “There was a girl at uni, but she married someone else. That was a difficult time. A few others, but mostly no great love so no great disaster when they broke up. Just one really bad time and then I think he sort of gave up. Until you. That’s why I came here on my holiday. It’s good to see Richie, of course. But I was curious to meet his team, especially you.”

“Why me?”

“Because he’s falling in love with you.”

“No! Meg, I don’t think so.”

“He is, and he’s terrified of it.”

“Why?”

“In general, because he’s afraid of being hurt. He doesn’t let his guard down easily. He had a rough time in school. Not particularly good at sports, and very studious. He likes solitary activities like reading and solving puzzles. That attracts the attention of bullies rather than friends, I’m afraid. It happened at work, too. He didn’t say much about it, but I know he was unhappy.”

“I know a little about school. He has mentioned being bullied. Learning tricks to defend himself when he was smaller than the other boys, similar comments here and there. And, of course, there’s the nun phobia. He says the nuns bullied him.”

“He’s a private sort of person, and there’s no privacy at a boarding school.”

“What is the deal with English kids being shipped off to school like that?”

“A proper upbringing, make a man of him,” said Meg in the deepest voice she could make. “According to Dad, anyhow. Did you know I have another brother?”

“No.”

“Hugh. He’s the eldest. The perfect son. Good at sports, makes friends easily, everything Dad wanted in a son. Not as smart as Richard, although he can fake anything as long as you don’t ask too many questions. Hugh went to Dad’s old school. Richard was sent to a different school. Richard’s school was better academically. But I think he has always felt that Hugh was sent out to be shown off to the world. Richard was just got out of the way.”

“What about you?” asked Camille.

“I’m the youngest. Daddy’s little girl. I learned early on that I could get my way by charming him. But beyond admiring me, he didn’t know what to do with me. He couldn’t teach me to bat or bowl. He couldn’t take me to a rugby match. My upbringing was left to Mum, and she wanted me to stay at home, so I went to a very nice school near home. 

“We were sort of two families. Dad and Hugh. Richard and me. Mum tried to be part of both families. Even though Richard is closer to Hugh in age, he’s much closer to me in things that matter. When he went off to school, Richard would write letters to me. Large printing and easy words so that I could read them myself. I would draw pictures and write notes to him. When he was home on holidays, I would subject him to tea parties with my dolls. Hugh would never put up with that, and I know he made fun of Richard for doing it. But Richie and I were best friends and we stuck together.”

“The two musketeers,” murmured Camille. “And the firewall?”

“If you don’t let someone get close, they can’t hurt you. He isn’t good at fitting in. He doesn’t know how to adopt island style, so he wears his suits and drinks his tea and watches Antiques Roadshow on TV. That’s his comfort zone.”

Camille nodded.

Meg continued, “You’re all so open and friendly and in each other’s lives. None of you has a firewall, and you challenge his. He found that overwhelming. But he has come to realize that he has made friends. He didn’t even have to try.”

“He tried not to.”

“I’m sure he did. But you’ve taken him sightseeing, to a music festival, even out on a little boat. You’ve taken him into your lives, and he’s still amazed at that. You’re chipping away at the firewall. You, most of all and least of all.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve chipped away the most because he cares for you, and starts to let you in. But you’re getting through the least because he plugs the holes you make. He needs to protect himself in case you reject him.”

“I think you overestimate his feelings for me, Meg.”

“This afternoon, I caught him looking at you. Nobody else was looking at him, but I could see it. The longing was clearly visible.”

“Even if he is attracted to me, he won’t act on it.” Camille signed in frustration. “There’s the whole thing about him being my boss. He’s too by-the-book.”

“And you aren’t very by-the-book. So perhaps you need to make the first move.”

Camille shook her head. “He’d retreat. What you’ve told me helps me understand why he’s so shy. But it doesn’t give me a way in.”


End file.
